She's a Paradoxical Conundrum
by LexusGrey
Summary: Langwidere/West: Because Langwidere is the only one who can give her what she needs, with the emotional detachment she needs it with. And the girl doesn't ask questions - at least, not the wrong ones. Tags/Warnings: D/s, spanking, hurt/comfort, oral sex, feeelings, Chapter 6 has triggers and spoilers for 1x08 FF dot NET HAS ELIMINATED MY SCENE BREAKS FOR SOME REASON! :(((((
1. Chapter 1

It all started with an offhanded comment by the princess at one of the wizard's banquets.

"Someone should really teach you some manners."

All eyes snapped to Lady Ev, then quickly to Mistress West to gauge her reaction.

West offered a lazy smirk, leaning back in her much-too-gaudy chair and stretching her arms above her head with a languid yet calculated aire. "Are you volunteering, Princesa?"

Langwidere turned her nose up at the vile woman and returned her focus to her plate.

Conversation continued ad nauseum. West heard none of it, so focused she suddenly was on the Princess of Ev. She watched the girl for the rest of the meal, fascinated. She seemed unaware of a lack of her own social decorum, but at the same time acutely aware. It was a paradoxical conundrum that West itched to preserve. It was refreshing, actually, the way Langwidere was a spoiled brat one second and ruler of a kingdom in the next breath. She trounced back and forth effortlessly, at least to the naked eye.

For some reason she didn't want anyone else solving the riddle.

As the banquet came to a close and people started drifting off home or to Glinda-knows where else, West sought the princess and dragged her by the elbow quickly and quietly into an alley near the front gates of the city.

"Get your hands off me," Langwidere said authoritatively, shaking the hold, eyes widening with disgust at the black smudge on her perfect yellow dress. "How dare you," she said further, trying to rub out the mark.

"Well you know my manners," West said with a shrug. "If I were more refined, I would have simply called your name."

"Yes, you're brutish, we all know this. What do you want?"

"Do you really think you have what it takes?"

Lady Ev stared at her for several long moments, then tilted her head slightly to one side. "Is this about dinner?"

West stumbled a little bit trying to stand still, and just gave Langwidere a self-deprecating grin in response.

"What do you want?" Langwidere repeated, enunciating each word sharply, but somehow with rounded edges.

"I want to lose myself," West drawled, rolling her eyes back in her head for emphasis.

"Don't we all?"

West laughed, a hollow, empty sound. "Indeed."

"This conversation is tiresome. If you'll excuse me." She turned to leave.

"Princesa," West said starkly, halting the girl's retreat. "I don't just want to be lost; I want to be _taken_."

Langwidere stood stiffly, unmoving, to the point West thought she would never move again, but then slowly turned, raising to her full height and reaching out with lightning-fast reflexes to grasp West's chin between the thumb and forefinger of her right hand. "In that case," she said, her bright eyes dancing, "you may call me Lady Ev."


	2. Chapter 2

The grip was painful, and West wasn't sure how long they stood there staring each other down, tuning out the sounds of the Emerald City behind them, but it was a long time. Neither spoke, neither moved; even their breathing was soft, barely causing their chests to rise and fall.

Instinctively she knew that if she didn't do it, her request would be once and forever denied. She knew that with Princess Langwidere there were no second chances.

Finally swallowing her hard-earned pride, she lowered her eyes from the princess's. "As you wish," she said with a bit of sarcasm. "Lady Ev."

Langwidere grinned and released her, patting her cheek and walking away.

West stood in place, watching her walk away. "Um..."

"You know where I live," Langwidere shot back over her shoulder without stopping or turning around. She climbed into her carriage and shut the door. When the driver didn't immediately stir the horses, she barked, "what are you waiting for?"

West's jaw opened slightly and she had to laugh.

But such an open-ended invitation was like a double-edged sword. How was she to know when was a good time to come calling? Did the princess mean now? Or in the middle of the night? Tomorrow? Next week? The possibilities were literally endless. For someone grudgingly wanting to let go of control, the choice was a cruel one indeed. That thought made her laugh harder and she shook her head, starting the long walk to the princess's palace.

She was quite refreshed by the time she got there, but nerves suddenly twisted her stomach when she looked up at the imposing structure and thought about what she was here for. She wasn't _scared_ , obviously, just a tad twitchy.

"Stop trespassing in my gardens and get up here!" came a voice through one of the open upstairs windows.

West choked on a laugh and walked up the steps, pushing open the heavy doors without knocking since she had just been invited in.

"Third room on the right!"

She walked up the interior staircase and counted the doors as she swaggered along the hallway, then stepped into the princess's room - or whatever room the princess was beckoning her to, at any rate.

"Shut the door," Langwidere said with a dismissive wave of her hand, manicured nails cutting the air sharply.

West liked the blood red color and turned to shut the door.

As soon as the door clicked closed, Langwidere sighed. "I'm trying to decide whether to drape you across my knee and spank you like the naughty girl we both know you are or have you serve me my favorite tea."

West just stared at her in shock, not sure what she had expected, but such a forward approach made her a little weak in the knees, and she would deny the blush coloring her cheeks to her dying day. Only the Princess of Ev would say something like that in such a long-suffering way, as if it were perfectly normal conversation between two adults.

"I-"

"Oh!" Langwidere said, as though she'd forgotten West was in the room. "I don't believe I asked you to speak." She moved to her vanity and adjusted her elegant golden mask in the mirror. "Did I?"

Caught off guard, West stammered for what was probably the first time in her entire life. "N-no..."

"No, what?"

"No, you didn't ask me to speak."

"Do try harder not to fail, please. It's disheartening. How have I already told you to address me?"

A sour taste flooded West's mouth and she frowned. "Lady Ev."

"Good, you do remember. I didn't think you were lacking upstairs." She tapped the side of her head as she finally faced West. Her brows furrowed. "Go into the washroom and clear the soot from under your eyes. And scrub your hands vigorously, please. The poppy resin might be charming to those of lower breeding, but I find it vulgar. Get. It. Off." She pointed to her personal washroom, housed within her suite.

West glared daggers at the beastly little girl as she stalked past and started washing her hands, scrubbing soap over her fingertips until the resin was as light as she could get it. She took the paint from beneath her eyes where it had smeared from days and nights of wear, then huffed at herself in the mirror and returned petulantly to the suite. She stopped short when she noted the princess seated on the edge of the ornately decorated bed, one ankle crossed in front of the other, her feet bare and elegant, toenails painted the same blood red as her fingers. She was quite beautiful.

"Come here, let me see," Langwidere said, motioning her over impatiently. When West held out her hands, the princess inspected them and reluctantly approved. "I suppose that's better than they were. Now tell me, how naughty have you been?"

West snorted, a little roar of laughter bubbling up and spilling out of her mouth before she could stop it. "Where do I begin?"

"At the beginning, of course," Langwidere replied.

"Right. We'd be here all week. Month, maybe. There isn't room enough in your head for the amount of naughty I've been, Princesa."

At the princess's sharply raised eyebrow, she coughed and corrected herself.

"Lady Ev."

"So. Just to make sure I've gotten this correctly in my spoiled head, you want absolution by way of a miracle because you don't want to confess?"

Something in the way the princess worded it made West give her a genuine, if fleeting, smile. "Something like that."

"Very well. I just wanted to make sure I understood. Take off your dress."

West blinked. "What?"

Langwidere looked around the room, then back to West. "I heard myself clearly. Did you not?"

"I-"

"My patience is not one of my more generously gifted virtues," Langwidere said, her tone darkening for the first time that night. She didn't feel the need to add that West had approached _her_ ; asked her for this.

West unceremoniously stripped off her dress and tossed it to the floor, standing in black lacy underwear and sheer stockings.

"How immodestly barbaric," Langwidere commented on West's lack of a brassiere.

"I run a whorehouse," West reminded her unnecessarily.

"Regardless, you should take better care of yourself," Langwidere scolded, taking hold of one slender wrist and impossibly gently guiding Mistress West across her lap.

West blushed for the second time that night, glad she was face down so the princess couldn't get the satisfaction of seeing. "That's none of your business," she snapped.

"You're overcompensating for your embarrassment by employing anger," Langwidere said matter-of-factly, wrapping one delicate arm around Mistress West's naked waist. She curled her fingers into a chiseled hip bone and squeezed to keep her charge in place as she brought her free hand down with a crisp smack to the seat of those black lace underwear. The sound it made was delightful.

West gave a slight jump, mostly out of surprise, and sulked silently at the comment. And the spanking, of course. Naturally.

As it went on, and the princess landed smack after unrelenting smack, West was no longer sulking. She was squirming like a child and burying her face in the velvet comforter beneath her.

"Hmm," Langwidere said thoughtfully, taking a pause. "Do you still think it's none of my business?"

Of course the witch did not deign to answer.

A renewed barrage of punishing slaps began to fall, and West could almost appreciate the stamina the princess had, except it meant she was going to lose this battle of wills, because the childish punishment was becoming exceptionally painful and very adult at the same time.

She gasped at the realization that the burning, stinging, fiery pain in her ass was making her cunt throb. "Lady Ev," she said shakily.

"Yes, little witch?"

"I made it your business." She hoped that answer would suffice, because her brain was currently doing everything it could to misfire, and a longer, more appropriate explanation would not be forthcoming. If one was required in order to halt the punishment then she would be spanked all night. Spanked very soundly, as it were.

"Correct!" Langwidere said as if West had answered a trivia question and won a prize. "Does your sudden answer mean you wish me to stop spanking you?"

"Yes."

"I see. I shall continue, then, because you are not in charge."

If possible, now she spanked harder.

West cried out and tried to get up, and all activity ceased instantly.

"Oh, did you want to leave?" Langwidere asked, as if she had been so impolite not to ask sooner. "You are welcome to leave any time you like... you are just not welcome to come back unless your exit is at my insistence."

"It fucking hurts!" West hissed, but she stopped struggling and lay still.

"You don't want me to stop because it hurts," Langwidere informed her, and where most people might have been smug, she wasn't. "You want me to stop because you want to be in charge. And because of something _else_." The last was said in a harsh whisper as her hand connected again.

"You don't know what I'm thinking!" West screamed at her in a fury, pounding her fists into the mattress. "You spoiled fucking-"

"Don't I?" Langwidere interrupted, dipping her fingers between West's legs to find wet heat soaking her underwear. "Now shut your mouth."

The princess removed her fingers and began spanking again in earnest, and soon the traitorous tracks of tears stained the witch's face. "I'm sorry," she cried, guilt and shame sweeping up from the depths of the water her sisters had drowned in.

"Who are you speaking to?" the princess asked, continuing the discipline.

"You," West said contritely.

"And?"

Damn this girl's sense of insight. "And my sisters," she offered weakly. "My mother."

"I see. You handed them on a silver platter to the Beast Forever?" Langwidere inquired.

"I might as well have," West whispered. "For all the good our magic did against it, I might as well have."

"My mother drowned in the flood as well," the princess confessed emotionlessly, her cool tone a counterpart to the anguish tainting West's confessions. "I blame the wizard, not myself, and so should you."

"The fault for your mother's death does lie with the wizard," West said, swiping angrily at her tears. "My family died because I wasn't strong enough to protect them."

"You hid away while they fought," Langwidere baited her as she slowed down the spanking.

"Are you mad? Of course not! I was out there fighting right with them! I just couldn't save them."

"Well by your standards a person would have to be all-powerful and invincible, and I'm afraid that doesn't exist. Good luck achieving the impossible." She stopped spanking and grinned at the shuddering sigh of relief from her charge.

"When I told Glinda what I've told you, do you know what she said to me?"

"Obviously not, I wasn't there."

West almost laughed through her tears at the princess's literal interpretation of everything. "She said, 'we all make mistakes'."

"And she the biggest mistake of all," Langwidere offered.

West waited for an explanation, but of course there was none. "What do you mean?"

"Even I, a spoiled brat who's had everything handed to me and never had a single friend in my life, can recognize your guilt and shame and seek to assuage it. And I don't love you. A sister should do all of those things."

"Glinda has never been good at love."

"Those who hold themselves so far above the rest of the world are usually not." She slid her hand into West's hair and made a fist, pulling the witch's head up until she rose onto her hands and knees. "Do you feel assuaged?"

"If I say no are you going to beat me some more?"

"Spanking is not beating. And no, I simply need a reference point from which to gauge my next approach."

"I feel a little lighter than I did when I walked in the door," West decided after reflecting on it for a moment.

"But you're still going to go home and bury your hands and your mind in poppies?"

"Is that a problem for you?" West couldn't control the bitterness in her voice.

"I don't think that tone is appropriate with which to address me. In fact, if you do it again I shall be most displeased." One of her fingertips drew lazy circles on West's muscled back in stark contrast to the warning issued forth. "Do you understand?" She placed a gentle kiss on West's closest shoulder - she could be very sweet or very cruel depending on which way the wind blew, or in this case, Mistress West's attitude.

West had not been touched so gently in years, and she exhaled slowly, drinking in the affection like water to a scorched earth. "Yes, Lady Ev," she said quietly, leaning toward the girl until she could rest her forehead on a porcelain shoulder. "I'm sorry." She sucked in a slow, deep breath through her nose and nuzzled into Langwidere's neck. "I'll behave."

"Will you now?" Langwidere asked, her amusement clouded by the intimacy of the moment between them. "Would that be because I've spanked you so well?"

West purred softly. "Yes, Lady Ev, among other things. You've quite earned my respect."

"I should like to hear you tell me how well I've spanked you," Langwidere decided, continuing the soft circles with her fingertip.

"Oh," West exhaled sharply, embarrassment flushing her cheeks once more. She wasn't accustomed to embarrassment and it didn't suit her. She had done things much more debaucherous than this. There was no reason to blush. She kept her lips against the princess's skin as she spoke. "You've spanked me very, very well, Lady Ev," she recited, biting her lower lip. "You've instilled such a pain in my bottom I doubt I'll sit comfortably for awhile. And you've made me drench my panties." The last sentence was uttered almost as a quiet moan. "No one has ever made me feel quite such conflicting sensations before."

"I must confess, you are making me feel some firsts as well," Langwidere confided. "I don't believe I've ever before had such an urge to _fuck_ a woman..."

West groaned and dropped her head down between her shoulders, her dark, messy hair brushing the comforter. "Well I'm yours for the fucking," she said. "You've earned me."

"Oh, but it is not something I am inclined to need to _earn_ , little witch," she hissed into West's ear. "Good night."

West felt the loss of connection like a physical blow and cursed her ego a thousand times as she slid off of the bed and got dressed.


	3. Chapter 3

"Since my exit is at your insistence, does that mean you'll see me again?"

"Yes," Langwidere said without hesitation.

"When shall I return?"

"Whenever you like."

"So technically I could walk out the door and walk right back in...?"

"Oh, aren't you feeling clever?" Langwidere asked with a wicked grin. "Have a nice time sitting for breakfast. Good night, Mistress West."

"Good night, Lady Ev," West said with a snicker, and resigned, she left the palace.

Rather than summon one of her girls, she took her pleasure by herself, with her own hand up her dress, the throbbing sting in her ass fueling her passion. It didn't take long, and when she was done, she reached for a jar of poppies.

The next time she called on the princess was more than a week later. Dorothy had escaped her grasp and she was furious.

She had already killed three people in raw, purest rage, and realized she would end up laying waste to her entire brothel if she didn't get out of there. Having nowhere else to go, she decided to seek out Langwidere.

To announce her presence she threw a fist-sized rock at the window she now knew to be the princess's, quite satisfied with the sound of splintering glass.

When an angry blonde head opened the window and peered out, she yelled. "Princesa! Let me the fuck in!"

"Have you lost your mind? You just broke my window!" the princess yelled back, scandalized.

"So punish me, but let me in!" West shouted, heading for the front doors.

Langwidere shut the window, though really what use was that now, and tutted her disapproval. "We will have to speak about how she comes calling in the future," she said to herself, haughtily moving to descend the stairs and open the doors for the crazy witch.

When they were upstairs, locked in Langwidere's suite, West immediately started pacing back and forth, fuming. "How dare she help that murderess escape! What price must I pay for loyalty in these wretched times?" she nearly screamed, wringing her hair with both hands.

Langwidere stood, watching silently, and when West finally looked at her, she simply pointed to the washroom.

"Ughhh, you're so maddeningly afraid of getting a little _dirty_ ," she snarled, but stalked to the washroom anyway and began scrubbing her hands in earnest. She fixed her eye makeup, as she already knew she would be directed back in if she didn't, and stalked back out. "Do I pass your inspection?"

"Your voice is too loud. Lower it," Langwidere instructed, as if that were the only problem either of the two of them had.

"I'm fucking angry!" West screamed, getting louder if anything.

Langwidere calmly approached her and without warning slapped her face, smiling as the witch's head was forced to the side and a glaring handprint formed on her cheek. "You are welcome to be angry," she said, her own voice sickly sweet, "but you are not welcome at all to be disrespectful."

Shocked, a hand went to her cheek and she turned to Langwidere with wide eyes, magic swelling up within her and aching to be expelled. She could incinerate the girl in a flash. Or squeeze the breath from her lungs with nothing but a gesture. She did nothing, however, but stand and feel the pulsing pain.

Langwidere waited to see if she would be subjected to some form of magical retribution, and grinned delightedly when West just stared at her. "Now," she began primly, reaching up and removing the witch's hand from her cheek to replace it with her own, gently rubbing out the sting, "what do you think you might want to say to me?"

"Other than go fuck yourself?" West whispered, inexplicably leaning into the touch.

Langwidere couldn't help the girlish giggle that escaped her at that, and she curled a fingernail into the reddened skin. "Yes, other than that."

"Well I think you're looking for an apology, but I didn't do anything wrong," West said petulantly.

"Then why did you get slapped?" Langwidere asked logically.

"Because I think you're a bit mad?" West guessed, though she was only teasing, impressed at how quickly the princess was able to get her to calm down.

"I see. So then, potentially, I could fly off the handle at any perceived offense?" Langwidere played along.

"Exactly. I'm glad you realize it..."

"Then I suppose you'd better behave very well, don't you think?"

"I suppose I'd better," West agreed, still reveling in the hand stroking her cheek.

Langwidere stilled her hand and kissed West's forehead. "I'm waiting..."

"I'm sorry for having perceived to offend you," West said, halfway between sincere and cheeky.

"I'm not sure I believe you, but that's neither here nor there." The princess led West across the room and pulled out the chair from her vanity, taking a seat. She pointed to the floor beside it and chuckled as West grudgingly sat. "Knees, if you would," she directed.

West debated disobeying, but the twist in her belly made her do as she was asked, and she slowly moved onto her knees beside the princess.

"Excellent. Now tell me, calmly, why you're so angry."

"Because Dorothy escaped me, and with the help of one of my girls, no less." She was calm but her words came out with a dark scowl.

"And what do you think gives you the right to have her in need of escaping?"

"She killed my sister!" West started to rise, but a hand on her shoulder kept her kneeling.

"Lower your voice. Last warning," Langwidere said with quiet authority.

"Or what? You'll spank me?"

"No. I'll ask you to leave."

West deflated with a sigh. "She killed my sister."

Langwidere's hand moved from West's shoulder to carefully comb through her knotted hair. With a little urging, she got West to lay her head in her lap. "Are you certain it was deliberate? The way I've heard tell is that she fell from the sky in some sort of vehicle, and the vehicle struck your sister. That can hardly be within Dorothy's control, can it?"

"But after that," West said, tears springing to her eyes. "With the gun."

"Then she should be brought to trial. Evidence presented. It is not for you to unlawfully imprison her and exact your own personal brand of vengeance."

"Well I think it is, and as soon as I find her I'll kill her," West growled.

"Your sister was beloved by many. You would take away the healing they deserve to see justice done? Fairly and publicly? You would selfishly strip them of that right?"

"That's a horrible way to look at it."

"It's the only way to look at it and you will honor your sister's memory by doing the right thing; is that clear?"

"Oh, because I'm sure you always do the right thing, is that it?"

"We, little witch, are not here to talk about me. Un-der-stand?" She drew out the word as she curled her hand in messy hair and forced West to look up at her.

"I think you overestimate me," West said after staring silently, working her jaw in an attempt to diffuse her anger.

"That sounds like your problem, not mine. Your hair is atrocious. Go fetch my hairbrush from the washroom and bring it to me."

"And if I don't?"

"Then I'll use it on your bare ass instead."

The memory of her spanking still fresh in her mind despite the week's time that had passed, West wasn't quite ready to repeat the experience. Especially not with a hairbrush that was likely ornately heavy and metal backed. With a shudder she got up and retrieved the item, which was almost exactly as she'd pictured it, and returned to her knees in front of Langwidere, offering the item with a sultry pout.

"If you won't take care of yourself, I'll have to do it for you," Langwidere said as she snatched the brush from her charge. "Turn around."

West turned around, choosing to say nothing rather than end up getting spanked with that ghastly implement. She could handle having her hair brushed.

Langwidere hummed softly as she used great care brushing the witch's hair. It was a ratty, tangled mess and she did her best not to make the experience painful.

West sulked through it with her arms folded over her chest, thinking there were much better ways to spend one's time. "That was entirely unnecessary," she said when the princess was done.

"My room is full of pretty things, and look how pretty you are," Langwidere said, tugging West to her feet and placing her in front of the vanity so she could see herself in the mirror. The princess stood behind her, hands resting on the witch's upper arms.

West shrugged, unused to compliments.

Langwidere frowned, though, as their positions put her face right near the silky tresses, and she shook her head. "Oh, no. You look so beautiful, but your hair is simply _dripping_ with the smell of poppy smoke."

West smirked. "That might be because I smoke."

"I'm aware of your filthy habit, thank you," Langwidere said disapprovingly. "The flowers smell quite nice until you burn them. That _ruins_ them."

West spun to face her. "Are you saying I'm _ruined_ , Princesa?"

"Lady Ev," Langwidere corrected austerely, "and no. I'm saying you need a bath."

Twenty minutes later a hot bath was ready, and her servants exused themselves politely as they left the room.

Langwidere locked her suite doors behind them and twirled her finger in the air toward Mistress West. "Well? Are you going to bathe with your clothes on?"

"I'd think not," West said with a laugh. "I'd be very cold walking home later in a wet dress." She turned to head for the washroom.

"Stop," Langwidere commanded her, and when the witch stopped, she smiled to herself, keeping the delight at being so perfectly obeyed out of her voice. "Turn around."

West turned, one eyebrow raised.

Langwidere regarded her for a few moments and then spoke again. "Undress, please." She sat on the edge of the bed to watch.

West's eyebrow lifted higher but she complied, shrugging out of her dress and hooking her thumbs into the sides of her underwear. "These too, Lady Ev?" she asked, purposely coy.

"Take them off and give them to me," Lady Ev said, holding out her hand, palm up.

West tried to suppress a shiver at that directive and bit her lower lip, pushing her underwear over her hips and down her legs, then walking forward to hand them to the princess.

Langwidere's lips twitched into a coy smirk of her own and she tucked the garment into the front of her dress, between her breasts. "Remove your stockings and get in the bath," she said cheerfully.

West settled into the water with a contented sigh. It had been awhile since she'd had water this hot. It felt amazing enveloping her skin and soaking through to her muscles. "Thank you for this," she said sincerely when the princess entered the washroom. "Will you be joining me?"

"I do not undress in front of anyone," Langwidere said by way of answer. "But I will be attending to you, so after a fashion I suppose it could be considered joining you."

"Your sleeves will get wet..."

"That is quite an observation."

"I would imagine that dress cost more than most people see in a lifetime. Why would you ruin it?"

"I have a thousand more dresses. What do I care about this one?"

"That is a very spoiled rotten thing to say," West observed.

"Then I shall donate this dress to orphans; does that apppease your ridiculous sense of unfairness?"

"That depends on whether you're going to donate it before or after you ruin it."

"Be quiet and wet your hair."

West laughed and submerged herself under water for a few moments to saturate her hair, then came up and brushed it out of her face. "Hair is wet, your majesty," she said with a twinkle in her eyes.

"That's a new one," Langwidere said, smiling at the witch as she lathered her hands with soap and began washing her charge's hair.

"That feels and smells divine," West purred appreciatively, closing her eyes.

"Better than poppy smoke?"

"Marginally."

"So very stubborn."

"About some things; absolutely."

"All right, rinse your hair," the princess said, rinsing her hands off in the bath water.

West submerged herself again and ran her hands through her hair to get out all the remnants of soap. She breathed in deeply once she came out of the water, feeling incredibly refreshed.

Langwidere took the bar of soap in her hands and began rubbing it over the witch's skin, starting with the parts above the water. She languidly cleaned tense shoulders and an even tenser throat, then urged West forward to slide hands down her back, getting every inch above water before sliding her arms in to finish the task.

West sighed happily, not used to such treatment, and turned her head to kiss the side of Langwidere's neck in a heartfelt gesture of appreciation. "Thank you, Lady Ev," she said, meaning it sincerely this time.

"You're welcome, little witch," Langwidere replied in a low purr, fingers crawling around to West's front to wash her chest and stomach.

West's breath hitched at the feel of smooth, delicate fingertips gliding across her breasts, and her head lolled back onto the rim of the bath tub. When Langwidere's hands slid lower to wash her belly, she couldn't help a quiet moan.

Langwidere grinned to herself and let her lips brush the witch's ear as her hands slid even lower. "Be a good little witch and open up for me," she whispered, tugging at Mistress West's thighs to part them.

West thought she might pass out, it was suddenly so hot and there was so little air to claim. She obediently spread her thighs to allow dextrous fingers between them. "Yes, Lady Ev," she murmured without thinking.

Langwidere clenched her thighs at the submissive behavior and slid one fingertip carefully inside the witch. West's answering whimper drove her mad. She had to hear it again. She pushed her finger in further, stroking hard once, twice, then pulled out and gripped West's thigh like a vise. "Beg," she demanded in a voice that could cut glass, her breathing labored.

The word was already on the tip of West's lips, about to spill forth. "Please," she begged. "Please, your majesty." Her hands gripped the edge of the bath tub so hard her fingers ached. " _Fuck_. Please. Please. _Please_."

"I'm supposed to be getting you clean and now we're going to make a mess," Langwidere whispered, and after a split second's hesitation, she climbed into the bath fully clothed, on her hands and knees above Mistress West, and returned her attention between the witch's legs, stroking one finger back and forth with an appreciative groan.

West's eyes flew open at the splash, and she almost laughed, but the sweet attention pulled her focus quickly and the humor vanished. "Oh," she said, biting her lip, pushing her hips into the princess's hand.

Langwidere's fingers coaxed curses and cries from the witch beneath her, and she relished every moment of control she had over this magical creature. "So well behaved when she's getting what she wants," she teased, twisting her fingers as she slid them out, then slowly back in.

"I was behaving before you touched me," West protested, for some reason finding importance in the distinction.

"That is true," Langwidere granted, kissing the witch's cheek as her fingers worked tirelessly, intent on undoing Mistress West completely.

And seeing her undone was every bit as delicious and extraordinary as Langwidere imagined it would be, a piercing cry torn from the witch's throat as her muscles tightened with release, her back arched, breath shuddering from her parted lips, her eyes rolling briefly back, sweat dripping down the sides of her face. But the most precious part was the look of unguarded humanity. It was the moment Langwidere coveted above all else. She felt truly powerful to have been the one to invoke it. It was worth every stitch of her ruined dress.

"My lovely, lovely, lovely little witch," Langwidere said affectionately when West finally opened her eyes. "I have matters of State to attend to and I must get out of this dress. As you can see, someone got it wet."

West just lay there blissfully, and nodded in the affirmative that she understood.

"Finish washing yourself, get dressed and-" She paused, thoughtful, and changed her mind. "Well, it's up to you. You can wait for me here or leave, whichever your heart desires."

She hated the crashing of reality back upon her after such an experience, but sighed. "I must get back as well. Whores can get up to all sorts of mischief if left unsupervised for too long, and I no longer have a second in command for the moment."

"Hm. Perhaps you should choose someone before you next have need of my company, in case you are so inclined to remain with me for the night."

"Sounds like a plan," West said, begrudgingly picking up the soap to finish washing.

"Then I shall see you when I see you, little witch," Langwidere said, kissing the top of West's head and moving into another area of the suite to change her clothes.

"I'm older than you are!" West called after her, though she had to admit she didn't mind the appellation. "Much older!"

"Good night, Mistress West!" Langwidere called back as she shut and locked the door to her changing room.

"Good night indeed."


	4. Chapter 4

The next time she visited the palace, she was in tears. Langwidere pulled her quickly into the suite and locked the door before anyone could see her distraught guest.

"What in Oz is going on?"

West fell to her knees, inconsolable. "I promised to protect her and I had to kill her instead!"

Langwidere quickly realized that there were several ways this could go. She didn't know which to choose. That did not fall into her repertoire of interpersonal skills. "What role am I playing in this performance? The caring mother, the doting lover or the merciless disciplinarian?"

"Please, make me hurt," West cried. "Make me hurt until I can't think of anything else. _Please_ , Lady Ev..."

"Very well," Langwidere said, opening up the suite doors just far enough to stick her head out and yell. "I require some items!"

If anyone wondered why the princess required rope, a riding crop and a very sharp (pristinely clean) dagger, they wisely chose not to ask.

She had the items in her suite within five minutes.

"Get up," the princess said coldly, dragging West to her feet by her hair, then gripping the back of her dress and tearing it down the middle. Ruining dresses might just be a theme the two of them were starting together.

When the dress was pooled on the floor, she roughly removed the witch's stockings and underwear and shoved her onto the bed.

"Whatever it is you've done, you're about to pay very dearly for it," she said, her voice low and dangerous. She cut two lengths of rope and secured West's hands to the headboard, not sure whether she was relieved or not to have no resistance. She picked up the riding crop and without preamble began striking the witch's belly and thighs hard enough to make her cry out.

West tugged sharply on her bonds and squirmed on the bed, but kept her knees apart since the princess was aiming for her thighs. Small pricks of fire licked her skin every time the crop made contact. Langwidere was imposing, frightening and perfect. The pain was already distracting her from the melancholy guilt that plagued her. It was doing something that even the numbing haze of the poppies could not. Each welt was a fractal of absolution.

"Thank you," West breathed, tears still streaming down her face, wetting the velvet bed covering beneath her. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry..."

"I have no need of your gratitude or your apologies, young lady," Langwidere scolded her, striking more sharply with the crop's leather tip. "Keep them to yourself until you're in front of the appropriate jury."

"Yes, Lady Ev," West managed to say between little cries of pain. When the strikes moved higher, to her breasts, she arched off the bed in an effort to avoid them, glad, however, that she couldn't.

Langwidere's manicured hand - this time with black fingernails - closed instantly around West's throat. "Don't do that again," she said harshly, tightening the hold.

West gasped, her vision blurring, and she stopped struggling the second she felt the princess squeeze.

As soon as the witch lay still, Langwidere removed her hand and dragged her fingernails down West's cheek, leaving raised, angry marks in their wake. "Behave," she commanded.

"Yes, Lady Ev," West replied amidst a shuddering cough.

She didn't move again, despite how much it hurt and how loudly her instincts yelled at her to escape.

When she was satisfied with the welts covering the front of the witch's body, she snapped the crop between West's legs and watched her come apart.

West dissolved into sobs once more, but they were not quite the same as when she'd arrived. She wanted to apologize a million times but she had been told not to, and she obeyed. She felt freer somehow, which she supposed she'd suspected she would have or she wouldn't have asked for this. Her entire front was on fire, throbbing and pulsing and screaming, and she almost couldn't take it. It was exactly what she needed. What she deserved. The princess had performed with such succinct perfection it left West feeling punished for her sins. She had needed it and Langwidere had selflessly given it to her.

Langwidere took the dagger and carefully sliced open the ropes binding the witch's hands. She intended to walk away and give Mistress West time to recover herself, but as soon as she released the bonds, her charge's arms wrapped around her and she found herself being quite literally a shoulder to cry on.

"May I thank you now, Lady Ev?" West whispered through her tears.

"Am I done being the merciless disciplinarian?" She thought so, but one could never be too careful.

West nodded against her neck.

"Then yes, of course you may."

"Thank you," West said reverently, pressing her lips to porcelain skin, nipping softly with her teeth.

"You are quite welcome."

West wasn't done. She stroked her hands up and down Langwidere's back and moved her lips to the front of the princess's throat, sucking taut flesh into her mouth and working a red mark onto it.

When hands wandered forward and toward her breasts, Langwidere captured the witch's wrists in a bruising grip. "What do you think you're doing?"

"Saying thank you," West whispered, pained eyes snapping to the princess's.

"Mistress West," Langwidere said sharply, though it was plain to see the situation saddened her. "I do not undress in front of anyone and I also do not let anyone touch me." Her countenance dared anyone to object.

"Why not?" West asked, staring into the depth of the princess's loneliness.

"My reasons are my own," Langwidere insisted. She brought West's hands away from her and guided them between the witch's legs. "If you want to thank me," she said darkly, "then touch yourself."

West's jaw dropped even as her fingers ached to comply. "In all my sordid liasions, many that there have been, I have never touched myself like that in front of another."

"Yes, well, as we have established, this arrangement has brought many firsts for both of us."

"You really want to see me do that?"

"I demand that you do."

"I'm embarrassed."

"Delightful!"

"Of course you would find that delightful," West mumbled, experimentallly running her fingertips up and down her welted thighs, hissing in pain every time she crossed one.

"Your pain is exquisite," Langwidere commented, much too blase for the situation in West's opinion.

"Thank you so much," West replied, heavy with sarcasm.

The princess dug her thumb into one of the welts on West's hip and reveled in the resulting scream. "Sorry," she said, obviously not in the least. "The notion struck me and would not let go."

Tears leaked fresh from West's tightly closed eyes and she quickly dipped her fingers between her legs. "Your honesty is so very refreshing," she scowled softly.

"I know," the princess said with a self-satisfied grin. "Now put your fingers inside yourself."

West turned her face away. "How many?"

"Two."

She carefully inched her fingers inside, humiliated yet exhilarated at the same time. Had anyone else tried to demand such a thing from her she would likely have snapped their neck.

"How beautifully sinful," the princess exclaimed. "Tell me how it feels."

Only one word came to mind. "Wet."

"Already?' Langwidere teased her. "You were excited before you began?"

"That is entirely your fault for being a scandalous minx," West growled at her, moving her fingers slowly until she found a rhythm, and pulled her bottom lip between her teeth.

"I have been called many things. Never that," Langwidere laughed.

"Firsts, Lady Ev. Firsts," West reminded her, starting to allow her actions to bring her pleasure now that her embarrassment had been quelled.

"Indeed," Langwidere agreed, feeling rather happy as she leaned down and placed a sweet kiss on one of West's welts, just below her belly button.

West cursed in her native language and rocked her hips into her hand.

Pleased with the reaction, Langwidere sat back up and watched intently without further participation. Well... without further physical participation. She couldn't bring herself not to comment. "Is two fingers enough for you, little witch?"

West scowled at her and nodded. "Yes, Lady Ev."

"Then why haven't you come undone yet?"

"You're distracting me."

"I see." She endeavored to be quiet.

West closed her eyes again and let the feelings of warmth and friction wash over her, losing herself in the hazy glow of pleasure and finally able to bring herself release.

"What happened to your face?"

West looked at her sister, startled. "What are you doing here?"

"A little birdie told me you came home in the middle of the night weeks ago, hardly able to sit, and then last night you came home with claw marks on your face. I see it's true."

Her hand instinctively went to her cheek, fingers rubbing absently over the raised fingernail marks, and she smirked. "That's entirely my own business, not yours and not your little birdie's."

Glinda's eyes flashed. "It is my business that you continue to embarrass what's left of our family," she hissed. "Whatever it is you're doing, I'll see it stopped."

"You won't," West said dismissively. "You don't control me." She made the mistake of standing up, inadvertently revealing the welts on her stomach through the sheer middle of her dress.

"What is this madness?" Glinda gasped, crossing the distance between them in a whirlwind of anger and disappointment and grabbing her sister by the arms. "What have you done to yourself?"

"Stop pretending you care," West said with a snort, shaking her arms free of her sister's grasp.

"What are those marks?" Glinda insisted. "How many more are there?"

"They are all over my breasts," West finally gave in, using the most seductive voice she could muster to unnerve the Mother of the Sound and Pure . "My belly... my hips... my thighs."

"Who did this to you?"

"A girl doesn't kiss and tell..."

Tip tied her horse quickly and ran up the steps to the palace two at a time. When the doors opened she wasted no time with pleasantries. "I need to see the princess right away!"

"Who are you?" Langwidere asked, descending the staircase to stand in front of the girl. "Oh, you're the one that killed Jack."

"Stop saying that; he's alive!" Tip yelled frustratedly, but pushed past her own frustrations and shook her head. "I'm not here about that. I'm here because Mistress West is in trouble."

"Why are you telling me? That witch can handle herself."

"I'm telling you because I know you're the one she comes to when she can't handle herself, and right now she can't handle herself. Her sister took her away and locked her up."

"Glinda?" Langwidere asked, eyebrows lifting. "Against her will?"

"Of course against her will, otherwise I wouldn't be here!" Tip shouted exasperatedly.

"Well what do you need me for? Why haven't you freed her already?"

"I can't get in to Glinda's fortress, and she wouldn't go with me, anyway. We both know you're the only person she'd go with."

"I disagree; I think she'd go with anyone who came to free her, if she were being held against her will," Langwidere argued. "However, I will accompany you just in case."

"How are we going to get past Glinda?"

As their horses approached the stark white fortress, Langwidere turned to Tip. "Why did her sister take her and lock her up?" she finally asked.

"Something about embarrassing the family, I'm not quite sure," Tip said with a shrug. "I think maybe someone told Glinda about some of the... things... you do together."

"How terribly un-foward thinking," Langwidere said with obvious disappointment. "Was it you? Did you tell her?"

"Me? No way. It's none of my business. And even if it were my business, Mistress West always looks... happy... when she returns from a visit to your palace."

"Hm."

Glinda met them outside the walls of the fortress. "Go away," she said darkly. "Neither of you are welcome here." Her eyes narrowed in on Langwidere. "Especially you, as I am now certain of who it is that has been indulging my sister's twisted vulgarities."

"I don't see you in a position to judge," Langwidere said flippantly, sitting taller on her horse. "Being married while you require vows of chastity from those who serve you."

Tip couldn't help smirking to herself, and turned her face to hide her amusement from Glinda.

"Leave," Glinda said simply in response.

"I think not," Langwidere said, hopping down from her horse and handing the reins to Tip.

The princess approached Glinda and reached under her dress, and in a flash she had the gun the wizard had given her as a prototype pointed at Glinda's forehead.

The Mistress of the North gasped and took an instinctive step back.

"Take me to your sister or I will kill every single witch in your ridiculously colorless domain. Honestly, it's very frigid."

Glinda held up her hands placatingly and took another step back. "Follow me," she said, anger bubbling below the calm surface of her features.

Langwidere thought she brightened up the stark fortress as she followed Glinda through a labyrinth of hallways, keeping the gun trained on the back of her head, finger poised on the trigger. She didn't want to kill anyone, but this was a rescue mission, and she was trying to be the heroine.

The princess could tell when the neared Mistress West, because the woman was screaming in rage about being locked up, wanting to kill Glinda, why wouldn't her magic work to open the door, and so forth.

Glinda paused, and Langwidere leveled the gun more firmly at her. "Open the door," she demanded.

"You will regret this," Glinda said through clenched teeth.

"I believe you are the one who will regret this. You are mistreating the only family you have left. If you were truly a good witch, you wouldn't care about things like embarrassment. You would only care for your sister's happiness. But you are not a good witch, Glinda of the North. You are a bad witch, and someday you will pay for that. Now open the fucking door."

Surprised at the crass language, and frankly surprised at the scolding from this typically spoiled brat, Glinda waved her hand and the wall opened into a doorway.

West jumped out, ready to strangle someone, and froze at the sight before her: Princess Langwidere with a gun at Glinda's forehead. "Oh!" she exclaimed, eyes going back and forth between the two of them. "Well I must say this is a pleasant surprise." She moved toward Langwidere, grinning. "My knight in shining armor," she said, filled with a giddiness she hadn't felt since she was an innocent child.

"How sickening," Glinda said icily.

Langwidere moved the trajectory of the gun and fired a shot into the wall above Glinda's head, cackling with amusement at the way the 'good' witch shrieked and dropped to the ground, arms protecting her face. "Dont. Be. Rude," she scolded. "Now get up and show us out."

"How did you know I was here?" West asked as they followed Glinda back to the fortress's entrance.

"Tip," Langwidere replied, keeping the gun trained on Glinda.

"I'll have to thank her," Mistress West said with a nod, then squeezed Langwidere's arm. "Not in the same way I hope to thank you, though, Lady Ev," she whispered.

Langwidere smirked and nudged her. "Don't be insolent."

Glinda had to admit, her sister did sound rather happy.

When they reached the doors, Langwidere pulled West outside and turned around to face Glinda once more. "Can I trust that you'll leave her alone?"

Glinda sighed, staring at the snowy ground for a few long moments, and then slowly raised her head. "You can."

West thought her sister wanted to say more, but of course she wouldn't. That was Glinda - repressed as always.

Once the doors closed with Glinda inside, Langwidere led West to Tip and the horses.

"You're all right!" Tip shouted as soon as she saw them.

"Tip!" West called, a smile lighting her face. "Thank you! You're wonderful."

"I'm just glad you're all right," Tip said, blushing.

"I am," West said, spinning around, enjoying the fresh air. "Thanks to the two of you."


	5. Chapter 5

When she heard about Langwidere's father, West put Tip in charge of the brothel and paid a visit to the princess. She noted that the window she'd broken had not yet been fixed, and wondered about that for just a moment before her attention was pulled by the sound of crying.

Glancing around quickly to see no one about, she flew to the balcony instead of using the front doors.

Langwidere looked up sharply when she heard someone land on her balcony, knowing it had to be West or Glinda, so she knew it was West.

"Princesa?" West called quietly, moving aside the window covering and stepping into the suite. "I came when I heard the news."

"That's Lady Ev," Langwidere said, trying to seem like she hadn't been crying, though there was a telltale hitch in her voice.

"Right," West said with an affectionate smile. "My mistake, Lady Ev."

"Why have you come?" Langwidere asked, unable to keep the sadness out of her demeanor.

"Well... you rescued me when I needed it, so I thought-" West paused, not sure how to finish that sentence, not quite confident enough to say she was trying to rescue the princess. She changed track and bit her lip, swishing her skirts as she closed the distance between herself and Langwidere. "I just thought you might want to give me a spanking."

"Oh?" Langwidere asked, obviously grateful for the opportunity to forget what she was going through, if only briefly. "Do you deserve a spanking, little witch?"

West slowly dropped to her knees in front of Langwidere, resting her cheek against the princess's dress-laden thigh. "I think I deserve a spanking if you say I do, Lady Ev," she breathed.

"I think you're a naughty, wretched little witch and you _always_ deserve a spanking," Langwidere teased her, stroking a hand through messy hair.

West grinned. "I quite agree, my lady."

"Right then. Go climb onto the bed on your hands and knees."

"As you wish," West replied, ducking her head and crawling over to the bed, rising up onto it then lowering herself to all fours again.

"This is a very lovely and very thoughtful treat," Langwidere said, moving behind West and lifting the hem of her dress to drape it over her back. She was in, of course, black underwear, this time sheer instead of lace. Langwidere curled her fingers into the waist of them and inched them down torturously slowly until they rested just above the witch's knees. "Very, very lovely," she reiterated, bringing her palm down with a resounding CRACK.

West groaned, dropping her head forward. "Thank you for saying so, Lady Ev," she purred. The feeling of the princess's palm on her bare ass was indescribable.

Langwidere grinned, delighted at that response, and spanked her again. "On your elbows, dear," she suddenly said. "I think I would quite like the view."

Flushing, West immediately complied, lowering herself onto her elbows, squeezing her eyes shut even though Langwidere was behind her and couldn't see her face.

"I was right," the princess tutted. "I do so love to be right. Spread your legs."

Flushing darker, West shifted her knees apart the best she could with her panties around them.

"I also do so love to be instantly and questionlessly obeyed by a pretty witch." She leaned over and whispered into West's ear, "that would be you."

"You're the only person in this life to make me feel pretty," West admitted quietly.

"I doubt I could make you feel it if it weren't true," Langwidere said thoughtfully, head tilted to one side. "I'm powerful but not an illusionist. Don't forget that."

West couldn't help the giddy smile that graced her lips. "I won't. Thank you, Lady Ev."

"And thank you for coming here and offering yourself just because you thought I might need someone." She paused. "I did need someone."

West chanced a cheeky glance over her shoulder. "I do so love to be right."

Langwidere gave a little shriek of laughter and climbed onto her knees on the bed, careful not to wrinkle her dress (she actually really adored this one), launching a full-blown spanking, enjoying the squirms and occasional cries from her charge and the way pale skin darkened to pink, then red.

"Ow," West complained, though in truth she loved every minute of it.

"You're not fooling anyone," Langwidere challenged her, drawing circles over one of her reddened cheeks with a fingertip.

"I didn't say I don't like it," West said petulantly. "That doesn't mean it doesn't hurt."

"True, I suppose," the princess said lazily. "Tell me - what is likable about it?" She smoothed her dress under her as she sat instead of kneeling, and wrapped an arm around West's waist, dragging the witch to sit in her lap.

"Well," West began, letting her head drop back onto Langwidere's shoulder. "I don't know. It doesn't _only_ hurt."

"What else _does_ it?"

"I don't know; it's exciting? I can't think of any words to explain it. You're the first person that's ever done it to me so it's not like I've had months or years to reflect."

"First?" Langwidere asked, eyebrows lifting.

"And only," West added quickly, laughing.

"Not your mother when you were a child?"

"No, never."

"Nor mine. When I was younger, if I misbehaved, there was a girl at the palace who would receive punishments in my stead."

"What were you expected to learn from that?"

"I don't know. Compassion, perhaps? But she and I held no regard for each other, so I didn't much care what happened to her." The princess grinned. "She used to pull my hair when the tutors weren't looking, so I felt justified when she got the lash."

"That's as awful as it is amusing," West said, unable to help a rich, genuine laugh.

"It is, isn't it?" Langwidere realized, suddenly laughing with her. "It's really very terrible of me."

"It sounds like you definitely could have used a thrashing or two," West said with a snicker, turning her head to place a kiss to the princess's jaw.

"Indeed, in a perfect world," Langwidere agreed. "I do quite enjoy thrashing you, however."

"I quite enjoy that as well," West confessed. There was no point in trying to deny it.

"Yes. Your reactions are illuminatingly transparent. Which is part of the reason I enjoy it so."

"And the other part?"

"I've become very fond of you."

Whatever West had expected the princess to come up with, that wasn't it. "Oh," she breathed, turning her head to bury her face in Langwidere's neck, attempting to stifle the sudden rushing onslaught of emotion that plagued her.

"Is that undesirable?"

"No, no," West hurried to assure her. "Just unexpected. Not undesirable at all." She paused, then continued. "Pretty fucking shocking, actually."

"But not undesirable?"

"Not at all, Princesa." She coughed lightly. "Lady Ev."

"Insolent," Langwidere murmured, eyelashes fluttering as she looked down at the witch in her lap and realized that though they had been undeniably intimate with each other, they had never kissed. "Why do you think it is that I've spanked you and thrashed you and even _fucked_ you, but we've never kissed?"

West blinked at the sudden, random question. "I think..." she started, brows furrowing as she thought. "I think that kissing is more intimate than fucking. Sometimes."

"So you think we've not kissed purposely, then."

"I don't know. Do you want us to kiss?"

The princess considered it, then shook her head. "Not necessarily. The thought just occurred to me, and you know how I am once a notion takes hold."

"That I do," West said with a smirk. "Inordinately stubborn to a near-infinite degree."

"Those are very big words just to call me names," Langwidere teased, bringing a hand up to comb through West's hair.

"I hope I'm not in trouble, because my bottom is very sore," West pouted up at her.

"Ha! Quite the manipulatresse you are, Mistress West."

"Come now, that isn't even a real word you're using to call _me_ names," West protested.

"I'm the princess. I can add whatever I wish to the Land of Ev's vocabulary." Suddenly her face dropped and she leaned her head back against the ornately carved headboard behind them. "Actually, I'm the queen."


	6. Chapter 6

"Queen Langwidere!" Tip called frantically as she landed on the queen's private balcony with Mistress West cradled in her arms.

The queen jumped. "How did you do that?" she asked. "You're not a witch."

"Please help her... she thought she killed me, and I've no idea if that has anything to do with why she's done this, but she won't listen to me, she won't let me close them..." Tip said, almost in tears.

The dripping of blood onto her balcony startled her and her eyes snapped to the source - two nasty gashes, one on each of Mistress West's wrists, partially covered by wrapped cloth.

Concern about blood on her carpets weighted her mind for the briefest of moments before she internally chastised herself and beckoned Tip inside. "Well hurry up! Get her on the bed or something!"

Tip carried her in easily with her newfound powers and lay her on the bed as West tore dramatically at the cloths tied around her wounds. "She's a bit delirious, I- I think she took too much opium... She kept telling me that it was too late, that she'd killed me, that Glinda hates her and wouldn't even give her a chance. She didn't say any more than that, but she said it over and over." She paused, as if debating to reveal what she wanted to say next. "I- I tried to close the wounds but my powers are new and she easily blocked my magic."

"So you are a witch," Langwidere said. "Discussion for another time. If she passes out, can you seal the wounds?"

"I'd think so, but I don't know," Tip said with a shrug.

"Good. We'll try it," Langwidere said, taking a seat on the bed beside West and brushing the hair out of her eyes. "Hello, little witch," she said gently, kissing West's forehead.

"Princesa?" West asked through a haze of poppies.

"That's right," Langwidere said fondly, her hand trailing lower to close around West's throat. "I need you to pass out, so be a good girl and do as I tell you," she whispered, applying slight pressure.

Tip turned away, feeling as though she were intruding on a sacred moment.

"Yes, Lady Ev," West murmured, closing her eyes as they started to roll back in her head.

Tip didn't really want to hear their private moments either, so she plugged her ears and didn't hear Langwidere calling her name. She turned around when something hit her in the back of the head, though. "Ow!"

"She's passed out!" Langwidere hissed. "Do your... thing!" She waved her hand in the air to indicate she didn't know what to call Tip's magic at that moment.

Without Mistress West's resistance it was much easier to close the wounds. Though she only had a very basic grasp of what to do with her new magic, so she couldn't heal the scars that would be left or anything like that. It was a very primitive job she did, but all she cared about was that the skin was stitched up and no longer bleeding.

After making sure West truly wasn't bleeding and in any immediate danger, they moved to the balcony. "Mistress West is easy to read. I know what she thinks of you, but what do you think of her?"

"Am I not easy to read?"

"Uh... no, you're not. I mean, I think you care, at least a little bit, which isn't really something she has, so..." Tip trailed off, not sure how to finish the sentence.

"What exactly is it that you want to know?" Langwidere asked, never one to dance around the point of something.

"Will you take care of her until this self-hatred passes?"

"You mean will I keep her from doing this again? That's up to her, but I will certainly try."

Tip nodded, figuring that was as good as it gets. "I'm thinking she'd rather wake up and it be just the two of you, but if you need anything, just send word."

And with that, Tip flew down to the ground and began making her way home to the brothel.

West woke several hours later, a throbbing, pulsing pain in both of her wrists. She groaned and rolled onto her side, not sure she wanted to open her eyes. The moments that led up to this one started a slow movie reel inside her head and she groaned again, opening her eyes and looking around. "Princesa, your bed," she complained when she saw the blood-stained velvet.

Langwidere looked up from the book she was reading and moved from the chair she was in to sit beside West on the bed. "Yes, it is my first priority," she said with obvious sarcasm. "Your life is a close second." She reached a hand out to stroke West's cheek, thumb brushing back and forth over dripping eye makeup that had made its way down. When her thumb came away black, she didn't even protest. "What were you thinking?" she finally asked.

"Nothing was right, and on top of that I thought I'd killed Tip," West said softly.

"Nothing was right? What did Glinda do now? Tip said you mentioned something about her."

At the pained look on West's features, Langwidere held up a hand and shook her head.

"Wait. Tell me later. First let's get you cleaned up."

The queen had her servants draw a hot bath, and when they'd gone, she carefully untied and removed the cloths from West's wrists, then helped her out of her dress and underwear - she wasn't wearing any stockings.

She slid her arms beneath the witch and lifted her with a bit of effort, thinking it worth it when West let out a shriek of pleased surprise and her lips actually pulled into something like a smile.

West put her arms around Langwidere's neck as she was carried to the washroom and gently lowered into the bath. She released the queen with a sigh, resting her head back on the cool porcelain and staring at the ceiling. When she caught sight of her wrists, her jaw dropped at seeing the jagged stitches closing up her wounds. "Oh my."

Langwidere followed the witch's gaze and gave a little shrug of half amusement, half anguish. "Apparently she doesn't know much more about magic than I would."

Concentrating, West removed the stitches and left only the scars that would have formed naturally over time anyway.

"I'm very angry with you," Langwidere blurted out suddenly, standing beside the bath tub.

West's head dropped, eyes trained on the water around her. "I'm sorry."

"What you did is selfish, short-sighted and stupid," the blonde continued, her tone clipped and stormy. "I'm very angry and very disappointed." _And also hurt_.

"Princesa," West pled, turning her face toward the queen's now, tears welling in her eyes.

Langwidere tried not to escalate further, but with wide eyes she raised her voice and yelled at Mistress West. "You know I've just lost my father! Do you think I like to make a habit of losing those close to me?"

With a gasp, the tears spilled over and West tried to get up, but the queen's sharp directive stopped her.

"Sit down!"

"I didn't-"

"You didn't what?" Langwidere shouted, gripping the edge of the bath tub and shaking it, water splashing over the sides and onto the tiled floor. "Didn't know you were close to me? Didn't think, didn't care, didn't what, Mistress West?"

The formal title pierced her and she longed for the privilege of being called little witch. "Please forgive me," she begged, hands covering her face in shame. "You're the only-"

"It didn't seem to matter to you that you're the only person I have, so what should it matter to me whether I'm the only one you have?" the queen interrupted bitingly.

West wouldn't have thought it possible to feel any worse than she had when she'd cut herself open, but now she did. "You're right, it was selfish and short sighted and stupid, and I'm so, so sorry, Lady Ev," she cried, still covering her face. "I understand if you won't forgive me but please know how sorry I am."

Langwidere leaned closer, putting her face right in front of West's covered one. "The tricky thing is not whether you're sorry to me, but whether you're sorry to yourself. Whether you're going to finish the job the moment you're alone."

West uncovered her face and stared pleadingly into the queen's eyes. "I swear I will not."

Langwidere stared back at her for an interminable moment and then grabbed her by a fistful of hair and crushed their mouths together, kissing the witch possessively and soundly, claiming her with teeth, lips and tongue. When she wrenched herself away, breathing hard, she narrowed her eyes. "You frightened me and I do not like to be frightened."

With a quiet gasp, West's fingers went to her lips, tingling from the fierceness of their first kiss, and she nodded. "I won't frighten you again, Lady Ev," she said, with not a small amount of wonder.

That wonder only grew when Langwidere turned away from her and began to undress. She averted her eyes out of respect, only daring to look when the princess- queen joined her in the bath. The mask was gone and her beautiful hair was down, cascading in ringlets over her shoulders, so long that the tips were immersed well below the water level. A jagged scar covered the right side of her face from cheekbone to temple, the skin a blaring, angry red almost in the shape of a lightning bolt. She also had a half-moon scar beside her left eye, almost as if her eye were being cradled. The queen's eyes were closed.

As her gaze traveled lower, she found a mess of scars covering the front of the queen's body, and she assumed they covered the back as well - seeing as how there were so many of them, her back was not likely to have been left unscathed by whatever had hurt her.

"Now do you understand why I wear a mask?" Langwidere had not opened her eyes.

"No," West said, getting onto her knees, moving closer to the queen, watching intently as the water lapped at her breasts and shoulders.

Langwidere's eyes snapped open. "Don't lie to me on top of your already grievous offenses of the evening," she said warningly.

"Do you think your scars detract from your beauty?" West asked, eyebrows slightly lifting. At the queen's silence, she exhaled a sharp breath and shook her head. "Let me assure you, they do not." Her voice had gone raspy without her consent. "Not an ounce," she swore further. "With the air around us as my witness, not an ounce." She was silent for another minute and then asked, "why have you shared yourself like this with me?"

Langwidere leveled her with a steely glare. "You are not the only person in Oz to have thought of escaping her torment," she said quietly. "But I choose to live with mine every day, and there's a strength in that that weakness cannot touch."

"I know I'm weak," West said, "and I'm sorry. I'm sorry for-" She had to call forth the courage to continue. "I'm sorry for hurting you. It won't happen again. You've been so good to me, Princesa- Lady Ev, and asked nothing in return. You have been exactly what I needed every time I needed anything. And I feel so very foolish for doing something to hurt myself instead of coming to you. And for not considering the effect such a thing might have on the one person I have come to care for above all others."

"Tip, I know," Langwidere said wryly.

"And I have been accused of being cheeky," West said, holding her breath, hoping this light teasing meant that the queen would forgive her.

Langwidere sat up and ran the backs of her fingers down either side of West's neck. "If you wanted to hurt, I could have hurt you," she whispered, drawing the witch closer.

West put her hands behind her back, too tempted to touch and not wanting to risk ruining the moment. She shuffled forward on her knees as she was drawn closer, and bit her lip, waiting.

"And tonight... for frightening me when I do not like to be frightened, I _will_ hurt you, little witch."

"It's no more than I deserve, Lady Ev," West murmured, grateful beyond measure at the return of the queen's affectionate nickname. Having it withheld had affected her more than she would have thought. "Can a condemned witch put in one small request?"

Amused despite herself, Langwidere raised an eyebrow and allowed the indulgence.

"Would you leave your mask off? Now that I've seen you without it, I fear I am hopelessly addicted."

Langwidere considered it. "Hm. Maybe at a time when you are not in serious trouble," she decided. "Tonight, you are in very serious trouble."

Mistress West blushed and closed her eyes, but had to admit that was fair. "Yes, Lady Ev."

"All right. Wash yourself and don't bother getting dressed," the queen announced a few moments later, removing her hands from around West's neck and climbing out of the bath herself. "We will discuss your punishment when I, however, _am_ dressed."

While they were bathing, the servants had changed the linens, so now they sat on a clean bed, West naked and Langwidere in full Queen regalia, from a dark red dress to a delicately-jeweled mask. Revealing herself to the witch had gone in a rather pleasing manner, but she pushed those thoughts out of her mind for the moment, set on the task at hand. "I need to know a punishment that will truly humble and affect you," she said finally, after long moments of staring. "Obviously a spanking, while it can be painful, would do neither of those things. What would you suggest?"

West was surprised to be consulted regarding a fitting punishment for herself, but she supposed it made sense. "I don't know," she said honestly, then blushed. "I think the only true punishment was knowing you were angry at me. Anything else pales in comparison."

"Then perhaps I shall be angry again."

"Please don't," West said, not quite liking how desperate she sounded. "You could have me publicly lashed by one of your guardsmen... I wouldn't enjoy that."

"I don't want you lashed. You've spilled enough blood."

"Publicly spanked, then. I wouldn't enjoy it at all if it weren't from your hand, Lady Ev."

"Paddled," Langwidere decided. "I don't want anyone else's hands on you."

"Of course, my lady," West said, bowing her head. "And please, just remember how sorry I already am..."

"Indeed," the queen said with a nod of her head. "Put on your dress. I don't want anyone else seeing you naked, either."

"And my panties?"

"No. You'll have no need of them. The flimsy material of your dress will do nothing to stay the paddle's sting, but it will keep your bare skin for my eyes only."

West couldn't deny the thrill the queen's possessiveness invoked deep within her. "Yes, Lady Ev." She slipped off the bed and retrieved her dress from the floor, putting it on under the queen's watchful gaze.

"I will go and make the arrangements. You will sit on the bed and wait until you are summoned to me."

As she was almost out the doors, Langwidere's heart gave an irregular tick and she stopped, spinning around to face the witch.

"On second thought, come with me." She still wasn't entirely unafraid to leave Mistress West alone, despite the promises she had been made.

A sense of impending doom crowding her from all sides, West rose from the bed again and obediently followed the queen.


	7. Chapter 7

Langwidere did not want the entire kingdom to witness the event, so she invited a select few dozen people to the throne room after choosing which of her guardsmen would be most suitable to carry out the punishment without any gleaning of personal gain. She chose a newly married young man who had always been utterly respectful of people in general and women in particular.

She knew she had made the right choice when his face had gone ashen and he had tried to refuse.

"Your Highness, I couldn't possibly!"

"You have no choice," she had simply told him.

Now, she approached the throne room with Mistress West on her arm, and whispered into the witch's ear as they reached the door. "I sent a message to Tip, inviting her to join us, but she declined my generous offer."

West groaned. "I'm glad she did."

Langwidere smothered a grin and led her inside, to their waiting audience. "I am going to sit on the throne, as is proper, and to show everyone that you are mine, you will bend over and hold one arm of the throne with your head in my lap while Mr. Alire paddles you."

West curtsied politely, not wanting to embarrass the queen in front of any of her subjects. "Yes, Lady Ev."

Langwidere stopped them at the throne and turned to address her people. "Thank you all for coming," she said loudly, eyes sweeping the room. "The mistress of the western fields has made a grave, grave mistake. But she understands her mistake and is ready to accept her punishment, here in front of all of you."

Every eyebrow in the room raised.

"Isn't that right, Mistress West?"

Oh, she was expected to speak to the group? How terribly awful. "Yes, Lady Ev," she said reverently. She didn't know what else to say.

Langwidere smiled at her and turned back to the room. "The nature of her mistake shall remain between her and I, but rest assured, it warrants the punishment she is about to receive. If anyone should take any offense... I don't care."

Langwidere glanced toward the still open doors and Mr. Alire, red faced and clearly unhappy, entered holding a large black leather paddle.

West went as red faced as the guardsman when the room collectively gasped.

Langwidere, quite pleased with herself, sat on the throne after smoothing her skirts, and patted her lap condescendingly.

Grateful at least not to have to look at anyone, West bent over the chair, rested her hands on the arm of the throne and lay her head in Langwidere's lap, facing her stomach. She was mildly comforted when the queen's hands threaded through her hair.

Langwidere looked to her guardsman. "Begin."

He had already been told in private that he was to deliver fifty powerful strokes.

As the first stroke landed, West jumped in surprise at the force of it, hands curling around the piece of furniture tightly.

"Oh, I almost forgot," Langwidere whispered to the witch. "Count. Loudly."

"Just a number?" West asked, eyes closed.

Langwidere's eyes sparkled even though West's were closed. "One, Sir," she breathed so that the guardsman couldn't hear her.

"One, Sir," West said obediently, voice echoing through the room, though it grated on her self-respect to say that to a man she didn't even know. She only did it for the queen.

The guardsman scowled to himself, not liking that, either. He smacked her again, hoping his wife would forgive him. He was really a gentle sort of man, and had to force himself to use enough strength to appease the queen.

"Two, Sir," West recited, squeezing the throne even tighter, if possible.

Again.

"Three, Sir."

Again.

"Four, Sir."

Again. Again. Again. Again. Again.

By twenty-five her hands had left the throne and curled into the queen's skirts. For a second she thought Langwidere was going to correct her for it, but a gentle hand stroking her hair let her know it would be allowed. "Twenty-five, Sir," she counted. It hurt much more than she had anticipated a paddling could hurt. She wished she'd brought her poppies with her. Although that would have been impossible because she hadn't packed her things to come for a sleepover, she'd been brought here half unconscious by Tip.

The guardsman's arm was tired as well as his patience run thin, and only fear of the queen's ire kept him from dropping the paddle and walking out. Not only was he married, but he didn't believe in corporal punishment, especially not of an adult.

As he hesitated far too long, Langwidere shot Mr. Alire a sideways glare, indicating with her eyes what she'd do to him if he dared to question her orders, either vocally or by omission of action.

The guardsman came back to himself, shaking off his thoughts, and brought the paddle down harshly.

West felt tears prick the corners of her eyes. "Twenty-six, Sir." She wanted to bury her face in the queen's lap, but then she wouldn't be able to count aloud.

Twenty-seven, twenty-eight, twenty-nine, thirty, thirty-one, thirty-two...

Her tears broke free and slid down her cheeks, her shoulders shaking silently as she cried. "Thirty-three, Sir," she said shakily, knowing that everyone present would hear the tears in her voice.

She was already crying and he had seventeen more to go? "I don't think I can do this," he said quietly.

Langwidere whispered to the suddenly tense witch in her lap. "You'd better convince him to finish it..."

West stood up on trembling legs and spun to face him, blocking out the rest of the people in the room. "Please," she said quietly, for his ears only. "What I've done is unspeakable, and this is the only way she'll forgive me. Please, finish it. I can take it, I swear."

His eyes went wide. "You're okay with this?"

She sniffled and nodded. "Of course. I'm a witch. Do you think I wouldn't incinerate this entire city if I wasn't okay with this?"

Bewildered, he simply nodded.

Sighing with relief, she turned and bent back over, putting her hands on the chair again, resting her cheek on Langwidere's thighs.

"No more counting, and no more 'Sir'," the guardsman said to the queen, and once she'd given her agreement, he started paddling Mistress West in earnest, happy to go faster and get through with it.

No longer having to count or keep track, West finally buried her face in the queen's lap, taking comfort in the familiarity of her scent and the way the beads of the elegant dress rubbed against her skin. Her ass was on fire, and by the time the guardsman had finished the punishment, her cries were no longer silent. The pain, along with the guilt over hurting the queen and the relief at being able to find a way to be forgiven, allowed her to let her emotions loose, and she sobbed against her princesa, uncaring of how many people heard her.

As soon as it was done, the guardsman handed the queen the paddle and fled the room.

"Thank you all for coming!" Langwidere shouted without getting up. "See yourselves out and close the doors!"

When they were alone, West cried harder, gripping Langwidere's dress like a lifeline.

"Come here," Langwidere said fondly, guiding West up to sit in her lap, mindful of her paddled backside as she helped her settle. "Why are you crying, little witch? It's all over."

"Am I forgiven?" West asked, still fearful of the answer despite what they'd just done.

"I think I could never not forgive you," Langwidere said in a rare moment of transparency. "It would leave a hole in my spoiled heart."

"I will never, never disappoint you like that again, I swear..." One arm was around the queen's neck and the other clung to the bodice of her dress. "You are the only one I should have thought of... not Glinda. It's just that it's quite scary for me that you've come to mean everything to me. I wasn't looking for that and I didn't expect that, and you just- you were perfect, you are perfect, and if I'm honest, I've fallen very much in love with you. Such a thing is unheard of for me, Princesa, and I'm terrified."

Her mask could hide her tears, but not the raw emotion in her eyes. "You wretched little witch," she breathed, resting her forehead against West's. "Love is a terrifying feat for me as well, yet here you are, and here I am, and I do quite love you."


	8. Chapter 8

Langwidere took Mistress West back to her suite and laid her on the bed on her stomach, then pulled up her dress to see the damage. "Oh," she exclaimed, fingertips fluttering up to cover her mouth.

West pushed up on her elbows and turned her head to try to see. "How bad is it?"

"I suppose it's what I should have expected, but as you could tell from my surprise, I hadn't." She lowered West's dress and climbed onto the bed, laying down next to her, on her side facing the witch. She draped one arm over her lower back protectively and tugged her closer. "Thought it might have seemed otherwise, I did not like letting someone else discipline you," she said as she dropped a kiss to West's shoulder. "Please do not give me cause to do it again. Ever."

"I hated it," West admitted as well, turning on her side to face the queen. "You're the only one who's earned the right to touch me like that."

"You say the sweetest things," Langwidere said, half teasing. "You know, since taking up with me, your manners _have_ improved so very much. I can't wait to see how impressed everyone will be at the wizard's next banquet." She paused. "You _will_ behave, won't you?"

"I will," West promised, laying her head on one of the queen's pillows.

Langwidere kissed her softly. "Remember when I said I seldom had such an urge to fuck a woman?"

"How could I forget that? It's the first time I heard you use such filthy language."

Langwidere laughed. "Well... you're the first woman I _actually_ touched. Only woman, rather."

"I am?" West asked, surprise showing on her face and sounding in her voice.

"There are certain things that just aren't done when one is a member of the royal family and in the public eye."

"You're still a member of the royal family and in the public eye," West pointed out, one eyebrow raised.

"You made me take leave of my senses," Langwidere said with a wry smile. "I couldn't behave like a perfect young lady around you. It is entirely your fault that my virtue is now questionable..." She kissed her again, letting one hand play in the witch's tangle of hair.

"I think your virtue is perfect just the way it is," West said happily, leaning into the touches. "May I see your face, Lady Ev?"

Langwidere nuzzled her and with a sigh removed her mask, at least knowing she wouldn't have to endure ridicule or endless questions, or worst of all pity, from Mistress West. She set the mask on her night table and turned back to the witch, feeling naked.

"Maybe someday you'll tell me about them," West whispered, tracing the one beside Langwidere's eye with the tip of a gentle finger. She captured whatever protest the queen was about to make with a kiss. "I said maybe someday," she reiterated. "I didn't say tonight and I didn't say definitely."

"There is something I definitely want to do tonight, though," Langwidere suddenly said.

"And what might that be, my lady?" West asked, intrigued.

"You'll find out in the due course of things," Langwidere replied blandly.

"Tease," West chided, then slid her lip out in a childish pout. "That spanking still _really_ hurts."

"Poor baby," Langwidere murmured, lightly biting the witch's cheek. "Lie on your stomach."

West complied, folding her arms beneath her head. She shivered when she felt her dress being lifted, the hem draped across her back, the cool air of the night from the broken window blanketing the now exposed skin. She expected to maybe feel the queen's hands on her backside, but when she felt a warm, wet tongue instead she nearly shot off the bed, a moan of pleasure torn from her throat.

Pleased with the violently strong reaction, Langwidere smirked and continued to run her tongue along the purpling bruises on the witch's bottom. "These bruises are ghastly," she teased, kissing her way across one cheek and then the other. "Someone horrible must have done this."

"She's practically barbaric," West agreed with a languid moan. "Do you know she _punishes_ me when I misbehave?"

"No! How often is that?"

"Less than some... more than most," West said cheekily.

"She sounds dreadful."

"She is." West turned to look at the queen over her shoulder, then lay her head back down. "But she's also very good to me..."

"Oh?"

"She calls me little witch, even though I'm far, far older than she. Don't tell her I like it."

Langwidere laughed delightedly and continued kissing the witch's bruises. "I won't." She carefully turned Mistress West onto her back, and without giving her time to adjust, swiped her tongue between the witch's legs.

"Fuck- Oz - _fuck_!" West shouted, startled but obviously thrilled. "What are you doing?" She had been with plenty of women but none of them had ever gone as far as to do that for her. It was generally unspoken that some things, even amongst the dregs of society, were not done.

Chuckling wickedly, Langwidere repeated the action, her eyes alight with mischief.

West grabbed handfuls of perfect curls and tried her damndest not to pull the queen's hair.

She failed, but Langwidere didn't seem to mind, and in fact just the opposite - she licked harder.

"You're going to shatter me," West exhaled, finding it hard to get air back in.

"I've plenty of servants to clean up the mess," Langwidere said tartly, then turned serious and whispered "shatter away" as she slipped her tongue inside.

The sensation was indescribable and she lost control almost instantly, unable to stop whatever embarrassingly desperate curses she made as she did indeed come apart under Langwidere's wicked tongue.

When the witch stopped shaking, Langwidere crawled up her body and kissed her. "That's what I definitely wanted to do tonight," she said, rolling onto her side and pulling the witch close.

West was too overwhelmed to answer, so she just curled into the queen and closed her eyes.

"Are you all right?" Langwidere asked, holding her and rubbing her back.

West nodded, curling closer, feeling as though she could fall asleep without poppies for the first time in years.


	9. Chapter 9

*Trigger warnings for this chapter: Implied past sexual assault; non-graphic mentions of past physical assaut

When she awoke it was morning - she could tell by the sunlight bathing her and making her squint when she opened her eyes. The warmth was diffusing her entire body. She rolled onto her back, wincing slightly, but the pain had somewhat faded, and gave a long, luxurious stretch accompanied by a lazy yawn. It was the best way to wake up that she could imagine. Well, the only thing that could have made it better would have been if Langwidere was still in bed, but she could hear the queen moving around in another room of the suite.

"Good morning!" she called.

Langwidere appeared from her changing room, gloriously naked. West would have cat-called but for the serious look on the queen's face.

Hesitantly, Langwidere made her way to the bed and sat on the edge of it, folding her hands in her lap and staring at the far wall, unable to look at Mistress West as she spoke. But she wanted to do it. "I was eight years old," she began in a quiet voice.

West's langorous mood vanished in an instant, replaced by rapt attentiveness.

"My mother had been out drinking that evening, and seeing as how we were so rich, she felt the need to gamble with things other than money."

Mistress West did not like where this story seemed to be heading.

"Naturally, her eight-year-old daughter was the perfect wager." She didn't bother to keep the bitterness out of her voice, and even laughed disdainfully at the next part. "At least she had enough sense to try to back out of the deal when she lost."

West's hands tightened into fists, fresh anger boiling through her blood for something that had happened over a decade before.

"Well, maybe not sense," Langwidere continued, rubbing her index fingers over the nails on her thumbs. "Love, I suppose. But she was very drunk and stood no chance against a table full of gambling men. So when she tried to interfere, they knocked her unconscious and dragged me out from under the table, kicking and screaming." She sighed, staring at her hands. "I'll spare you the gory details, but there were no shortage of cuts and burns, as you can see. The more unspeakable things healed, so to speak, and that's that."

West climbed off the bed and walked around it to kneel in front of the queen. "Princesa," she began, her throat choked with emotion, "I will murder every last one of them with my bare hands, should they still draw breath."

Whatever reaction she had expected, that wasn't it, and Langwidere's eyes snapped to the witch's, pleasantly awestruck. She found herself blushing for the first time she could remember. "Even my mother and father never promised me that. Their solution was masks and long-sleeved dresses."

"I won't speak ill of the dead, since you loved them, so I will simply say that my solution is far superior."

Langwidere laughed and pulled Mistress West's head into her lap, stroking tangled hair as she so loved to do. "I wouldn't know where to find them. Or even if they do still draw breath."

"Then it's a good thing you have your very own witch hell-bent on avenging your suffering."

"My very own?" Langwidere asked, heart skipping a beat.

"Don't forget the part about avenging your suffering," West teased wryly.

"I am still swooning over the 'my very own' part," the queen admitted. "Is that true?"

West let the humor evaporate and looked up at the queen. "I should think so," she said quietly. "I feel as though I belong to you... in a non-objectifying sense, of course..."

"I like having something so pretty belong to me," Langwidere said with a grin. "Something I didn't buy."

"I think the word you're looking for is 'some _one_ '. I said non-objectifying sense," West reminded her, biting her lip with a little snort of laughter.

"Too late... you're mine," Langwidere said happily. "Though I would be a terrible liar if I didn't confess that I am yours as well. Turning you across my knee for a good spanking does not make me any less yours than would lying beneath you as you claimed me."

West grinned. "Well in the interest of linear logic, we can simply say that I belong to you, but we will both always know the whole truth."

"I find your thinking to be flawless," Langwidere said, pulling her up for a kiss.

"I'm glad we agree on something."

"Cheeky."


	10. Chapter 10

A few days later, the wizard hosted another banquet. Langwidere insisted that West take the chair beside her instead of beside Glinda.

That was the first thing Glinda noticed. The second thing she noticed was the near-constant smile on her sister's face. The third thing she noticed was the absence of poppy resin on her sister's hands. She had to admit, she was afraid she'd been wrong to try to intervene in whatever they had going with one another. The Queen of Ev obviously had a positive influence on her wayward sister.

The queen, the witches and the wizard, along with everyone else at their end of the table, talked, drank and laughed as if they were all good friends. Well, everyone except Glinda. Glinda talked, but she did not drink or laugh.

When one of the men made a crass comment to West that she would normally have entertained, she purred, leaning closer to Langwidere. "Lady Ev would not approve of my engagement in such topics," she said.

"What should that matter to you?" the man asked, a little drunk and too unobservant to notice the women's posture.

West looked at Langwidere sideways, and the queen laughed softly. "By all means, reveal whatever you like. I find no shame in it."

"Because battling vulgar wits with you, my good man, is not worth upsetting my lover."

The wizard choked on his wine. One of his High Council had to come rushing over with a cloth to get the burgundy liquid out of his beard. He pounded his chest and coughed until his breathing returned to normal, and then looked over at the women. "Well... unconventional as it may be, it seems congratulations are in order. When is the wedding?"

Langwidere choked on her wine. West, fortunately, had just swallowed a mouthful.

She kissed the dripping drink away from the queen's chin before it could splash onto her dress, and smirked. When her queen was settled, she regarded the wizard. "I said lover, not betrothed."

"But surely if you're going to engage in such deviant behavior you should at least be married. Two women, _and_ out of wedlock?" He shook his head as if the point he didn't make should be self-evident.

To everyone's complete and utter shock, it was Glinda who responded, pushing back her chair and standing, cold eyes boring into the wizard's skull. "I will not have you trying to remove the smile from my sister's face when it has only just begun to simmer. Hold your tongue on the matter, or we will have a problem." Her voice was so steely quiet that no one dared make a sound for fear of missing what she said.

West had to prevent herself from jumping across the table and hugging her sister. It was the single nicest thing she had ever said or done in their entire lives. "Thank you, Sister," she said breathlessly.

Glinda gave a barely perceptible nod and pulled her chair back in, re-taking her seat.

"So... does this mean you're no longer a whore?" the first man asked casually.

"She was never a whore!" Langwidere shouted, slamming her hands on the table.

"Well, technically-" West started, but the queen's icy glare made her close her mouth.

"No?" the man continued. "You mean for us all to believe she's not bought and paid for?"

Now it was West's turn to shout. "The only reason I have not _literally_ separated your tongue from your body is because I promised Lady Ev to behave!"

The situation was going downhill fast.

"Go ahead," Langwidere said, tossing fuel into the fire. "Remove his tongue. He obviously doesn't know how to use it properly at all."

"Unless you plan to cut it out with a knife, I would advise against it, Mistress West. There will be no magic used here tonight," the wizard spoke up with a smirk that tried to disguise itself as a benevolent smile.

"Must you ruin _everything_!" West snarled at him, furious.

"Me?" the wizard asked, a hand to his chest innocently. "I am merely upholding the law."

"Yes, _your_ law! That _you_ decreed! Because _you_ are a-"

"That's enough," Langwidere said, not wanting the witch to go too far in insulting the wizard when he did still hold a significant amount of power in Oz.

The only thing that kept her from continuing her tirade was the gentle hand on her lower back, and she deflated, practically pouting at her plate, as if the potatoes were the cause of all her troubles. "I hate you," she whispered to the offending meal.

Langwidere forcefully smothered a grin and turned to her own plate, picking up her fork and knife to cut her meat.

After the banquet wound down, Langwidere was headed home to attend to some matters of State and West needed to return to the brothel to make sure Tip was handling everything all right. They kissed goodbye at the gates and West watched until Langwidere was safely in her carriage and on her way home before she headed back into the city.

She encountered Glinda, who was presumably on her way back to her incredibly boring fortress in the north. "What was that at dinner, Sister?" she asked, unable to contain her grin.

"Your... lover..." It was hard for her to say but she managed it. "... told me that if I were truly a good witch I would not care about perceived embarrassment to the family, but only about your happiness. I brushed it off, of course, but now that I see your happiness, I can't help but think she was right." She waited a beat, then continued, forcing the words out past the barrier of her pride. "I was wrong. You have my apologies for my rash judgment and the actions I took, and, Sister, you have my support."

West's eyes filled with tears. "I don't think there is anything I have waited longer to hear. Thank you, Glinda."

Glinda gently slid her palm beneath one of West's hands and lifted it to eye level. "This, my dear sister, is something to be marveled at."

"Don't give me too much credit," West said, her face falling. "I haven't been home in days."

Glinda wanted to be angry, to say 'I should've known', but miraculously she didn't. "I have faith in you, Sister," she said instead, patting her sister's hand.

It meant the world to Mistress West, even if she didn't know whether the faith was justified. "Thank you, Sister," she said, taking a deep breath. "Well, I must be off."

"Myself as well," Glinda said, kissing West's knuckles and releasing her hand. "Good night, Sister."

"Good night."

The next morning, West returned to the palace, and was pleasantly surprised to be greeted with a kiss at the front doors, despite the presence of Langwidere's guardsmen.

"Hello to you too, my lady," she said as she followed the queen up the stairs.

When they were in the suite, Langwidere made her customary gesture toward the washroom.

West bit her lip, a shy smile on her face. "No poppies," she said softly.

Langwidere spun around, eyes wide as she took off her mask and approached the witch. "No poppies?"

West wasn't sure what to make of the queen's expression, and stood awkwardly under the scrutiny. "Are you... happy?"

"I am quite happy, but Mistress West, I never asked you to change who you are. I simply require you to scrub the resin from your hands because my room is _clean_ ," she said with a smirk. "I have never judged you for that particular manner of escape."

West sighed with relief and came to love her more in that instant. "Thank you, but I-" She stopped to shrug and slide her arms around the queen's waist, a blush dusting her cheeks as she looked away. "I suppose it's just that after a few days of a clear head, I prefer not to cloud it, at least not when I'm with you. I know this is going to sound stupid, but being with you is enough to mask the pain of my entire life, and I feel no need to escape."

Langwidere kissed her, slow and sweet, resting their foreheads together as she answered. "Well then I, for one, am not complaining," she said simply.

"There's also something I have to tell you," West forged ahead, pulling their hips together. "It's part of the reason I wanted to stay at home last night."

"Oh?"

"My messenger returned."

"Oh."

"Three out of five are still breathing."

Langwidere gasped. Somehow she hadn't thought Mistress West would actually be able to find anything out.

Hesitating, West chewed the inside of her cheek before continuing. "Do you want to know more?"

Langwidere swallowed back her nerves and nodded.

"One is in Quadling Country running some ruby mines and two are in Evra, still gambling at the same saloon every night. They'll be dead before tomorrow, I swear to you."

Langwidere's breath caught and she leaned into West for support. "I'm coming with you," she whispered.

"Princesa, are you sure? I can handle it swiftly and efficiently and be back before you sleep tonight..."

"I don't want it handled swiftly and efficiently, I want them to suffer. I want them to see me, that I survived all this time despite them, and I want to hold your hand while we extinguish their lives together."

"Is it very wrong to be excited by the prospect?"

West could not have said anything more perfect, and Langwidere laughed, squeezing the witch's waist. "I adore you, Mistress West."

West blushed. "And I you, Lady Ev."

"Quadling Country is going to be a long journey."

"Have you forgotten that you have your very own witch to make the mundane business of travel much faster and more exciting?"

"Oh," Langwidere said thrillingly. "I must have, yes."

"Your very own powerful, _cardinal_ witch."

"How utterly silly of me to forget."

"When would you like to leave, Lady Ev?"

"As soon as I'm properly dressed."

"Can I have a spanking before we go?"

"Oh!" Langwidere said, laughing. "I would be delighted."

West grinned, her embarrassment at asking fading with Langwidere's response.

The queen sauntered to the bed and sat on the edge of it, and West laid across her lap.

"Why do you want a spanking, if I may be so inclined to ask?"

"Well... it has been a little while, and the last one I got was not from you, and- honestly I just- fuck me. All right. The thought of flying you around the world with a stinging behind is too intoxicating to resist. I miss the feel of your hand when you spank me. I miss the sting when I'm trying to concentrate on something or sit comfortably. I miss knowing that it was you who punished me, who gave me what I so richly deserved, who turned me over her knee and disciplined me fairly but with unyielding strength. I have come to crave your correction even when I haven't misbehaved."

Langwidere found herself slightly breathless with the explanation, her cheeks glowing hot with desire. "Your words threaten to undo me completely, Mistress West. My composure is already gone. I fear what's next to go." Her hand found its way beneath the skirt of the witch's dress and she dragged her fingernails from calf to thigh, then without warning moved her panties aside and slipped two fingers into her.

West cried out in surprise, hands fisting the bedcover as she pressed her hips down into the queen's thighs, parting her legs in further invitation. She hadn't expected that. "Thank you, Lady Ev, I didn't- I wasn't trying to manipulate you into anything, I just-"

"Hush," Langwidere said fiercely. "I know you weren't. You were bleedingly honest with me and this is the result. I will spank you in a moment. I just needed to feel you around my fingers. Settle down and behave."

Groaning quietly, West tried to relax. She loved it when Langwidere spoke to her that way.

Langwidere closed her eyes and breathed deeply, reveling in the slick heat that enveloped her fingers. "You're wet."

West squeaked. "Yes, Lady Ev."

"Allow me to share a secret with you, little witch," she drawled in a positively indecent voice, leaning down to brush her lips over West's ear. "I'm _dripping_." And without giving the witch even a split second to react, she pulled her hand away, bunched the dark green sexy dress up around her hips, jerked her underwear down to her knees and started spanking.

"Ohmy-fuck-what-" West tried to breathe, wetter now at the queen's confession, and without warning her spanking had begun. "Oz help me," she muttered to herself with a wry grin, settling in for the ride. Apparently the queen wasn't pulling any punches, and she was quickly in tears, squirming over Langwidere's lap, her ass burning like the fires of a forge - red hot and most likely glowing.

"I don't know how long the journey is going to take," Langwidere explained between punishing slaps. "I don't want the sting to wear off before we arrive. You did say you wanted to fly me around the world with a stinging behind; yes?"

"Yes," West gasped, burying her face in the bedcover.

"Is this too much?" Langwidere asked, sensing the witch's distress.

"No," West hurried to assure her. "It hurts terribly but it's going to feel wonderful when it's done. Thank you, Lady Ev, and please don't stop."

Langwidere paused, resting her hand gently on the witch's thighs. "But you're crying."

"Yes," West admitted, swiping at a few tears. "Not in a bad way, though. Please, Lady Ev. Spank me."

Langwidere allowed a half-hearted slap to land.

"Spank me until I cry so hard the entire palace can hear me."

Langwidere's breathing picked up speed, her posture straightening. She let another slap land.

West could tell her words were starting to affect the queen. "Spank me until your bare hands leave bruises on my ass..."

Langwidere spanked her a little harder.

"Spank me until the thought of even wearing panties has me sobbing on my knees," West begged.

Now her breathing was officially labored, her thighs clenching against the unfamiliar sensation of being _this_ affected, and she laid into the witch with loving force, intent on granting her wishes. "All right, little witch," she exhaled softly, and continued even as her hand began to ache.

Langwidere spanked her until she was indeed sobbing - loud enough for the sound to carry past the confines of the suite and be heard in the halls and neighboring rooms.

She cried, and cried, and cried, long after it was done and the queen was humming softly and rubbing her back. She didn't think she would ever want to sit down again, and the thought that Langwidere had done that for her, simply because she asked it, warmed her entire body and bathed her in a glow of almost ethereal safety that she'd never before allowed herself to feel with another person.

When she felt she could move, after her tears had finally died down to sniffles and occasional whimpers, she shifted so she could wrap her arms around Langwidere's waist, and laid her head in the queen's lap. "You truly amaze me," she whispered, her voice dry and scratchy.

"Me?" Langwidere asked, eyebrows raising. "My hand is still throbbing; I can only imagine what your behind must feel like."

"It hurts more than I would have thought possible but it makes me feel so very safe and cared for," West admitted.

"I dare say that is an astonishingly good example of irony."


	11. Chapter 11

pre

*** MILDLY GRAPHIC DEPICTIONS OF VIOLENCE IN THIS CHAPTER BECAUSE WEST AND LANGWIDERE GO DEXTER*** Also: ***POSSIBLE TRIGGER WARNINGS: BRIEF ALLUSION TO PAST SEXUAL ASSAULT; MENTIONS OF PAST PHYSICAL ASSAULT***

 **Chapter Text**

Chapter Eleven

Langwidere insisted they lay in bed for awhile despite the fact that West insisted she was fine to get going.

"Of course you are, little witch, but that spanking was far more severe than either of us intended at the start of it, and you will let me fuss over you. Understood?"

Sighing, West relented, carefully extricating herself from Langwidere's hold and moving onto her stomach on what had become her side of the bed.

The queen gently removed the witch's underwear and then lay down beside her, propping herself up on one elbow and letting her other hand run through West's hair.

Several hours later, West stirred from a pleasant sleep and blushed to find the queen staring at her when she opened her eyes. "How long did I sleep?"

"A few hours," Langwidere said, still stroking her hair.

"And you?"

The queen shook her head.

"You stayed awake while I slept for hours?"

"Yes. I watched you sleep, and I played with your hair."

"For hours."

"Yes."

"How have you not gone mad with boredom?"

"Watching you is never boring."

Bewildered, West just shook her head and pushed up onto her hands and knees, groaning as she let her head fall forward. She still throbbed in pain, certain she was badly bruised, but the intensity had worn off enough for her to be able to move around with only moderate discomfort.

"Now," Langwidere said, tapping her chin thoughtfully, "what to wear?" She turned toward West. "Am I likely to get blood on my clothing?"

West shrugged. "That depends on how you want to kill them."

"Can I wear something of yours? Most of your wardrobe is black. Perfect for hiding the taint of blood. And perfect for going on murderous travels, don't you think?"

West couldn't contain a startled laugh. "I suppose."

"Will you change into something black as well?"

The witch's current dress was a deep emerald. "Of course, my lady." It amused her that Langwidere spoke of what to wear to a murder as if they were discussing what to eat for dinner.

West flew them to the brothel, to save time, and let Langwidere sift through her clothes until she found something she thought was suitable. Then Langwidere chose something for her to wear as well, and she carefully changed dresses, hissing once or twice when the material touched the sensitive skin of her ass.

When Langwidere was dressed in a long-sleeved, jet-black, witchy-collared dress, they were ready to go.

"If I may say so, Lady Ev, you are stunning in black."

"You are stunning yourself, little witch," Langwidere said, her eyes tearing up as she closed the distance between them and took West's hands in hers. "Thank you, for caring enough about me to do this for me. With me."

Rather than let the moment become too heavy, West smirked. "I don't know what you're talking about, Princesa. I simply enjoy killing."

Langwidere laughed, pressing a kiss to West's forehead. "You are too much..."

When West wrapped her arms around the queen and prepared to take off, Langwidere stopped her.

"Wait!" She moved out of the embrace and slowly removed her mask, setting it on the witch's bed, then returned. "All right, now I'm ready."

"Now you're just breathtaking," West said, wrapping her up again. And they were off.

West touched them down behind a row of dusty buildings belonging to the mining town they were there for, out of sight of prying eyes. Being a witch was not illegal, but, obviously, using magic was. Not for the first time she wished she could sever that oaf of a wizard's head from his body.

"So," she said, shaking off her brief foul mood. "We'll visit the outfitters and purchase a weapon of your choosing, then proceed to the mines."

Langwidere swayed, resting a hand on West's arm for support. "Give me a moment. I feel as though you've turned me on my head."

It seemed to be the general consensus among the townsfolk that two well-dressed women visiting the mining outfitters' shop was very strange indeed, if their disapproving looks and harsh whispers were anything to go by.

The outfitter himself was more direct. "I think you two should move along. There's nothing for ladies like you in this shop."

West reached into the bodice of her dress and produced a pouch of coins, tossing it at him. "I think you'll find our gold to spend just like a man's," she said dismissively, and didn't give him another thought. "Pick whatever you like. I paid him more than any lone item is worth," she told the queen.

Thrilled at getting to be the one to choose, her eyes settled on a very nasty-looking pickaxe. She lifted it from the shelf and handed it to West. "This?"

West hefted it a few times and nodded. "This should do the trick."

"What are you ladies mining?" a middle-aged balding man asked suddenly, approaching them as if they were a snack on a menu.

West spun and stared right into his eyes. "Rapists," she responded and walked out of the shop.

Langwidere hurried after her, taking her arm as they walked and whispering, "you really make my heart flutter sometimes."

West grinned. "I know, I am very sweet."

"He runs these mines so he must have an office," West said, looking around for any sign of such a thing at the entrance.

"There," Langwidere pointed.

"Right."

They walked in without knocking and West locked the door behind them - after determining that Ezeltio was alone in the office. She glanced to Langwidere for confirmation and the tight-lipped expression the queen wore was confirmation enough.

She walked to the startled man's desk and sat on it, putting one foot on each arm of his chair and shoving the chair, with him still in it, hard against the wall. "So," she began, jumping off the desk to stand in front of him. "I hear you like to cut up eight-year-old girls."

"What?" His eyes flicked back and forth several times between the two women before recognition slowly dawned and his face drained of all pigment.

"Hello, Ezelton." Langwidere looked at West. "Is that his name? Ezelton?" She very well knew his name, but pretending not to felt better.

West chewed her bottom lip to force down a smirk. "Sure."

"I can see by the look on your face that you remember me."

"I- I was a bastard back then," the man stammered. "I'm different now."

"Are you?" Langwidere asked, then tilted her head to the side and turned toward her companion. "Is he?"

West slowly circled around behind Langwidere, resting her chin on the queen's shoulder. "I think not."

"Yes I am! Y- you don't know me, you don't know-"

West lunged forward and slammed her hands on his desk, shouting as she swiped all of his paperwork to the ground. "You have had twelve complaints from wives of your workers in the last six months. Twelve! Ten men have quit over it, but tell me, Ezelton, what about the other two? Do they get extra coin in their pockets come payday?"

"How do you- look, whatever you're here to do, just fucking do it so I can get on with my day," he finally snarled.

"Oh," Langwidere said, looking sad for him. "I thought you knew... you won't be going on with your day. Did you think we were here to mine rubies? With one pickaxe between the two of us and these dresses on? You're about to breathe your last breath."

As soon as Ezeltio stood up from his chair, hand reaching for the dagger at his belt, West flicked her wrist and he was flat on the table, magically restrained.

"You're a wit-"

Another flick and he couldn't open his mouth to talk. Or scream.

Langwidere approached him, resting the pickaxe on her shoulder casually. "I would say this gives me no pleasure, but it does," she said darkly, and since he couldn't respond, she got on with it, lowering the pickaxe into his thigh and dragging it toward her, slicing his leg open effortlessly.

When Langwidere made no move to do anything else, West sidled up next to her, keeping the magical hold on the man. "What now, my lady?"

Langwidere tossed the pickaxe into the corner of the office and leaned sideways into Mistress West. "Now we watch him bleed out."

When he no longer had a pulse, West removed his head just to be sure.

"One down," West said after they had washed whatever blood they could off of their skin and out of their dresses. "Are you ready to fly?"

"I think I should like to rent a horse and ride through Oz, if you don't mind, and then we can fly across the desert."

West smiled at her and replied, "whatever my Princesa wants, she gets."

Langwidere swooned a little. "Being considered yours is remarkably fulfilling."

"Likewise," West said, taking the queen by the hand. "Come on. It should be easy to get a horse around here."

They rented a majestic white mare with black sparkling war armor and instructions to drop her off at the northern Gillikin border.

Langwidere made West ride in front to keep her hands occupied and prevent untoward wandering.

West had agreed but had sworn she would have been a perfect lady riding behind the queen.

As they started off at a leisurely pace, Langwidere wrapped her arms around the witch and kissed her between the shoulder blades. "I didn't say anything about you being a perfect lady," she murmured. "In fact I expect you to be anything but." Her hands slid up and she took West's nipples between her thumbs and forefingers, pinching gently. "I just want _my_ hands to be the ones doing the wandering."

West gasped, pulling up sharply on the reins out of instinct and the horse stopped walking.

"Why did we stop? Do you object to my attentions?"

Now West laughed and loosened her grip, nudging the beast forward again. "No. I didn't mean to stop us."

"Oh." Langwidere smirked, flattening her hands and rubbing all the way out to the edges of the witch's ribs, then back over her nipples.

"I never object to your attentions. And right now they are especially welcome given the excruciating state of my ass, riding this horse."

Now Langwidere gasped. "Fuck! I had forgotten."

"Language, Princesa!" West practically squealed, laughing again.

"We can turn back," the queen pouted. And then after a beat, "I'm sorry."

West leaned into her, resting her head on the queen's shoulder. "Lady Ev, I would lie in flames for you. I think enduring a trip on horseback with a bruised ass will be quite all right."

"Does it hurt very badly? You said 'excruciating'," Langwidere nearly whined.

"Is the queen of Ev whining in my ear?" West asked, quite amused.

"Yes," Langwidere admitted, turning slightly to kiss her cheek.

"It's all right, Princesa, I swear it. There is pain, but excruciating was an exaggeration. I am very much looking forward to a long ride with you, just the two of us. Time away from civilization comes too infrequently not to take advantage of this opportunity."

"You're using such big words to convince me," Langwidere teased. "Tell me what else it makes you feel. Besides pain."

"Using big words?"

Langwidere snorted softly and gave West's nipples a firmer pinch.

"May I use naughty words?" West whispered, groaning at the pinch.

"If it makes you feel naughty things, of course you may."

"As we've established, it still hurts, but every time I feel it hurt, I think about being over your knee with my dress up and my panties down, completely at your mercy." She turned her head sideways, still resting it back on Langwidere's shoulder, to kiss the queen's cheek. "I've never been over anyone else's knee before, Lady Ev..."

"See to it that you won't be, either," Langwidere growled softly. She brought her hands to slide down West's zipper, then eased them back around the witch's front, inside her dress, once again covering her breasts with gentle palms.

West sighed, unable to remember a time she was so content. "Of course not, Lady Ev," she promised. "I belong to you."

"And with me. You belong _with_ me," Langwidere added, stroking her fingertips along each of the witch's ribs individually.

"Yes, Lady Ev, I do believe I belong with you," West agreed.

"What else? I don't think you were done telling me everything."

"I think about being over your knee, and I think about your beautiful, delicate hands and how much power they wield. I think about how wonderful you are with every smack. I think about how it would feel if you rubbed away the sting afterward or if you-" She stopped talking with a sharp inhale, then exhaled slowly, her face bright red. "Well that's it," she tried to conclude the 'confessions of a witch' session.

"Yes, most people end a sentence by saying 'or if you-', don't they? It's what they teach in school?"

"You're horrendous."

"But at least I'm not _lying_."

"I don't think you know how to lie," West grumbled, glad for the focus to be shifted off of her fantasies. Or at least the embarrassing ones.

"I will make you a deal."

"Oh?"

"You don't have to decide right now. Take time to think about it. But... if you tell me what you were _really_ going to say, I will let you take me over your knee and give me a spanking. A mild one, just so I know what it feels like." She thought she _might_ have known what West was refusing to say but she wanted to hear her say it.

"That is appallingly, tremendously unfair."

"I said you can have time to think about it." Langwidere grinned and kissed the top of West's head, which she very much enjoyed having rest on her shoulder.

"That detracts from neither the appalling nor the tremendous element of the unfairness."

Langwidere's grin possibly got brighter. "I love you."

"That at least has the potential to detract from any unfairness," West decided, appreciating the warm hands that slid from her ribs down to her belly. "And I love you," she added, to make sure that was also understood.

Langwidere hugged her, stilling her wandering hands when she reached West's smooth stomach, letting them stay there as she held the witch close. It was a long, long ride and they would have plenty of time for doing naughty, adventurous things. Right now she was happy to relax and enjoy the comfortable silence that settled over the two of them.


End file.
